A few obnoxious teens came into the store today that reminded me to tell the world: I hate popped collars. Seriously, I think that the guys who do that shit need to be shot. It’s more heinous than those wild 70’s shirts where the collars traveled halfway towards your nipples. If your boyfriend, brother, husband, friend, or God forbid--father, does this. Do me a favor and slap them upside the head and burn all their polos. They shouldn’t be trusted with them in their wardrobes. I want this t-shirt: Now remember Billy, only retards wear their collars up! From the MSU Anti-Popped Collar Club: Today we "salute" you, Mr. Constant Collar Putter Upper. You, bedecked in popped collar, teach us that we no longer have to live with a cold back of the neck. Sure, your pink alligator polo may look feminine to some, but not the 17 other Farmington Hills guys wearing the same thing at the bar. Where others may see thoughtless fashion conformity, you preach a higher gospel. You preach of a w